by Julie Wetzel
Elliot grabbed Rupert’s shoulder to stop him from engaging Ross. “Gentlemen, please,” he called, trying to calm them. “I am not here representing the vampires. I am only here as a friend.”
“Lies,” Ross roared. “This pack is too weak to stand on its own.”
Phelan’s hand tightened on Krissy’s shoulder as Ross’s words echoed through the room, raising the tension to dangerously high levels. He turned back to glare at the man verbally attacking his pack.
The air in the room turned cold and still as Rupert glowered at Ross. “We are not weak,” he said through clenched teeth. His tone could have frozen fire.
“Then stop hiding behind the vampires and give us the justice we deserve,” Eckert said in a voice that was as cold and hard as Rupert’s. “Or are you afraid?”
Rage coursed through Rupert’s body and forced a scream out of his mouth. He ripped out of Elliot’s hold and slammed his fist into Eckert’s face. The room erupted into chaos as the two packs broke the fragile peace and tore into each other.
“Shit,” Phelan cried and grabbed Krissy. They were too far from the open door to make it out, so he slammed her into the wall and covered her body with his.
Clutching Zak, Krissy peeked around Phelan. The fight breaking out was unlike anything she’d ever seen. She couldn’t help but stare in horror as several of the wolves shifted to join the fight.
“Enough!” Elliot yelled, reaching for Ross to stop him from attacking Rupert. When his hand landed on the younger wolf’s shoulder, he froze.
Ross roared his rage, grabbed Elliot’s arm, and flipped him up and away from him.
“Elliot,” Krissy screamed and pushed against Phelan. She watched the unresponsive vampire fly through the air and crash into the picture window.
The sound of shattering glass and breaking wood rang out over the din of the fight. “No!” Phelan said, holding her tighter as she struggled to get free. “You can’t help him.”
Phelan’s fear and rage washed over her as she stared out the broken window in shock. The dark curtains that framed the window had been ripped down, letting the sunlight pour in. “Elliot,” she whispered desperately as feelings of helplessness pushed the fight from her.
Zak let out a concerned gurgle and wiggled from her arms.
Phelan glanced over his shoulder at the gaping hole. “There’s nothing we can do,” he said, holding her to him. The need to help his friend tore at Phelan, but he knew that it was too late. He’d seen what happened to vampires in the sun and how quickly they could die from exposure. He silently prayed that the curtains had given Elliot enough cover to survive the noonday sun.
Krissy could feel Phelan’s despair as she watched Zak jump up and out the broken window. She continued to watch, hoping to see Elliot get up from the ground. It seemed like time slowed down as she waited for some movement from outside. A flash of something caught her eyes, and she turned her head just in time to see someone chuck a chair across the room. She squeaked in fear and cringed behind Phelan as she saw the heavy piece flying their way.
Responding to her reaction, Phelan braced himself and took the impact to his back. He grunted in pain and stumbled, but kept her from being hurt. “We need to get out of here.”
Krissy could feel the conflict inside him. His desire to join the fight raged with his need to get her to safety. She placed her hands against his chest. “Go,” she said, pushing him away. “I’ll run for it.” She could tell that things were going from bad to worse, and the wolves of Brenton were going to need Phelan’s help to win.
Phelan’s eyes flashed with indecision, but there was only one real choice to be had. “Upstairs,” he ordered and released his hold on her. “Go.”
Krissy turned and took off towards the door. It wasn’t far, but the fight had left a field of debris in the way. Before she could make it over the busted chair, the front door banged open. Her heart jumped as she whipped around and saw Elliot standing in the doorway. The curtain from the window hung over his shoulder as he clung to the doorframe, breathing heavily. His eyes glowed golden with power and anger. Krissy shuddered at the sight.
Glancing over the room, Elliot slammed his hand into the wall beside the door and flicked the light switches on. The overhead light and a lamp in the corner both flickered to life. An evil grin bloomed on Elliot’s face, and he stepped fully into the room without removing his hand from the switch. Reaching for a layline, he pulled in the power and poured it into the copper wires running through the walls. He wasn’t sure how much of the house he’d caught as he raised the circle, but he was glad to see that the electrical circuit completely enclosed the main room and the wires hadn’t just run out and back along one wall.
“Enough!” he bellowed. Using the magic from the layline to bolster his own power, he poured some loose energy into the room, trying to get the wolves’ attention. The fight raged on, unheeded by the additional pressure. Pissed off, he invoked a spell he hadn’t used since alchemy had gone out of style. The air rushed from the room. His ears popped as the air thinned out and the pressure dropped.
“Enough,” he said again in a level tone. Most of the combat ceased as the wolves worked to get enough oxygen into their lungs to keep from passing out. “This is not the time or place for a war.” His calm voice traveled across the room full of suffering wolves.
Zak gurgled his agreement before heading across the room to where Krissy was kneeling, gasping for breath.
Untangling the curtain from his shoulders, Elliot dropped it as he crossed the room to where Rupert was hunched over, clutching his chest.
“Release us, vampire,” Ross said between gasps of air. He sprawled on the ground, unable to get up. “You have no voice here.”
Elliot turned and stared at Ross. “I don’t?”
“No,” Ecker said, backing up his second. “This is pack business, not yours.” He tried to muster enough energy to get up from the floor, but he couldn’t do more than sit taller.
Elliot let out a burst of laughter before getting serious. “Your second just made it my business.” Placing his fists on the floor to help with his balance, he knelt down next to the invading alpha and glared at him. “I know what you’ve done,” he sneered. “And I should kill you for it.”
Realization and fear flashed in Eckert’s eyes, but defiance quickly replaced them. “Our deaths won’t stop anything. You’re too late.”
A sharp-toothed smile slid across Elliot’s face. “That’s true,” he said as he stood up and away from the alpha. “Killing you now won’t do any good.” He waved his hand and released the spell. The air rushed back into the room. “But this is not the time or place for fighting.”
“I demand justice,” Ross yelled as he got to his feet.
Elliot turned back around to face him. “No,” he said softly. He could see that the wolf’s body was taut and ready to pick up the interrupted fight. “You want a war.” He turned his back on the werewolf and helped Rupert from the floor. Moving just his head, Elliot gave the two offending wolves a sidelong look. “And you shall have your war. But not today.”
“When?” Ross demanded.
Elliot met Rupert’s eyes. There was a flicker of anger mixed with resolve. They both knew this fight was inevitable. Elliot held Rupert’s gaze as he counted off the days until the next full moon. “Two days.”
There was a jump in Rupert’s face that showed his fear, but he didn’t object to the timeline. The full moon was in four days and most of his wolves would be ready for a good fight, but not out of control, in two. He broke the contact with Elliot and turned to look at Eckert. “But not here,” he said, backing up Elliot’s decision. “There are too many witnesses for an all-out war.”
Eckert nodded his agreement. “Then where?”
Rupert thought for a moment before answering. “On the north side of Brenton, there is a tree farm. It sits on about a hundred acres of land. It will take me some time to set it up, but I think it would give us the space we need w
ithout involving the innocent.”
“An ambush,” Ross sneered.
“No,” Elliot said, shaking his head. “I know of that place. It isn’t pack territory. Both groups would be on even ground there.”
“How can we be sure?” Eckert said skeptically.
“You can check it out with Patrick Brogan,” Elliot explained. “He’s the proprietor of a haberdashery called Hats and Soles.”
“A man in your pocket, no doubt,” Ross accused.
Elliot glared at him. “Leprechauns don’t appreciate being owned. I pity the fool who tries to keep one in their debt.”
The suspicion on Ross’s face turned to surprise.
“And I assure you, the man who owns the tree farm will be just as uncontrollable as Patrick,” Elliot explained. “He’s a kabouter.”
“A kabouter?” Eckert asked when he didn’t recognize the term.
“A redcap,” Rupert supplied.
Eckert stood up to his full height. “And what does he get out of this deal?”
“Blood to dye his hat,” Elliot said in a dark tone.
Ross drew a breath to say something sharp, but Eckert placed his hand on his second’s arm, quelling the comment.
“In two nights at midnight,” Eckert confirmed.
“At three AM,” Elliot corrected.
Both Rupert and Eckert gave him an astounded look, but Rupert nodded, agreeing with the time change. He wasn’t sure what Elliot was up to, but Rupert wasn’t going to question the man in front of the enemy. “Three AM.”
Eckert’s jaw tightened, but he nodded his agreement. “Until then.” He turned to his people. “Let’s go.”
Ross growled his disapproval, but turned with his alpha to gather their people to leave.
Once the other wolves had gone, Rupert turned to Elliot. “Why three?” The timing didn’t make sense. Such things were usually done at dusk or midnight.
“I have my reasons,” Elliot said, turning away from the alpha without explaining. He made his way across the room to where Phelan had picked Krissy up from the floor. He cradled her in his lap as she recovered. She hadn’t taken Elliot’s spell very well. Squatting down in front of her, Elliot ran his fingers over Zak’s back before giving her his undivided attention. “How are you, my dear?”
“I hurt,” she said without lifting her head from Phelan’s shoulder. Whatever spell Elliot had used had made the pounding in her head worse. Now that she could breathe again, it was starting to get better. “What happened?”
Elliot took her wrist and checked her pulse as he spoke. “I invoked some magic,” he explained. “Just a little spell I picked up in the middle ages. An old alchemy trick.”
“Alchemy?” she asked, still feeling a little woozy. She’d been to the local club a few times, but she never remembered anything like that happening.
“It’s the study of turning base metals into gold,” Elliot explained as he checked her over. “A very useful feat if you can manage it; lots of potential for things to explode if you can’t. I simply set a circle and lowered the volume of air inside. It’s great for controlling flames and out-of-hand werewolves. I’m sorry you were caught inside.”
Opening her eyes, Krissy rolled her head over and stared at Elliot, trying to make sense of what he said. Since she wasn’t processing well, she let it go.
Satisfied with her condition, Elliot released her hand and moved around until he was kneeling comfortably on the floor in front of Phelan. He gave Krissy a serious look. “In two days’ time, the werewolves will go to war.” Elliot glanced at the pack gathered around them. “They will not win.”
Outrage erupted around the room.
“Quiet,” Rupert barked. The protest turned to disgruntled mutters.
Krissy stared at him in disbelief. “Why would you say such a thing?” She could feel the distress his words had sown.
“Because I’ve seen it.”
Needing some explanation, Krissy looked up to Phelan.
“Elliot’s a prophet,” Phelan explained.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Elliot said, slightly embarrassed. “A prophet knows the outcome of a situation and can truly predict what will happen. I can read the paths of a person’s life and see all the possible outcomes. I can’t say for certain which path that person will choose or how things will turn out.”
“So you can see the future?” Krissy asked, awed by his gift.
“Somewhat,” Elliot admitted. “And what I saw in Ross’s path does not bode well.”
A murmur of fear circled the room.
“Why tell me?” Krissy asked, not sure how she fit into the overall scheme of things.
“By forcing the fight with Eckert, I’ve sealed the fate of the wolves,” Elliot explained. “They may have other options, but I know they will all choose to back up their alpha and give their lives on that field in two days.”
Krissy took several short breaths as Elliot’s words sank in. She was dismayed to know that Elliot had forced the wolves into a fight, knowing they would not win.
“But there may still be hope,” Elliot said. “You and I are the only two who have paths that aren’t set. I’ve made it a habit never to look into my own future, but, with your permission, I’d like to look into yours.”
“Mine?”
Elliot nodded. “The decisions you make in the next forty-eight hours may have enough impact to give the wolves a fighting chance.”
Fear froze Krissy. She didn’t know how to answer him. The idea of fate and predestined paths were way beyond her comfort zone. She’d always believed that she was in control of her fate and laughed at psychics who claimed to know her future. Yet, here she was, sitting in the lap of a werewolf with a vampire asking to read her future. Things were getting too surreal for her to deal with again, but she could feel the hope and anticipation building in the room around her. She drew in a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.”
“Thank you.” Elliot took her hand. He closed his eyes, bowed his head, and sat quietly for a few minutes.
Krissy held his hand, not knowing what to do. Should she say something? Do something? She looked up to Phelan for some answer, but he was busy watching the silent vampire. Just when the situation was starting to get uncomfortable, Elliot opened his eyes and raised his head.
Releasing her hand, Elliot stood up without a word and turned to Rupert. “I know there is much to be done, but I request the aid of your second.”
Rupert’s eyes widened in surprise. “Can’t you take another?” he asked, knowing he would need Phelan’s help to get things ready for the fight.
“If you want any hope of winning this, you will let me have him.”
Rupert’s jaw clenched in frustration, but he nodded. “Take him.”
Elliot lowered his head in thanks and turned to Phelan and Krissy, who were still folded together on the floor. “Come,” he said, holding his hand down for Krissy to take. “There is much to do and little time in which to do it.”
Unsure what was going on, Krissy took Elliot’s hand and let him help her out of Phelan’s lap. Once she was on her feet again, she glanced at the faces around her. They all showed a level of hope and expectation that made her uncomfortable. She turned back to Elliot. “Where are we going?”
“Home,” Elliot said. He released her hand and turned to lead the way through the house.
Confused, she turned questioning eyes to Phelan as he rose from the floor. He simply shrugged and waved for her to follow Elliot.
Zak barked his reassurance and scampered after the cryptic vampire as he disappeared through a door in the far side of the room.
“We’d better hurry,” Phelan said, placing his hand on Krissy’s shoulder. The pair made their way through the house with Phelan pointing the way. When they reached the mudroom where they had first come in, Elliot was waiting with their coats already in hand.
“We don’t have much time,” he said, holding their jackets out.
“But it’s just after noon,
” Phelan said as he took his coat. “The sun is up.”
Elliot let out an amused snort. “Yeah. I figured that out already.” Without more explanation, he turned and headed out the door to the garage.
Krissy and Phelan exchanged perplexed looks and followed him out.
Elliot stopped in the shadows just out of reach of the sunlight. He stared out into the brightly lit world, remembering what happened when Ross threw him through the window.
“How long have you been able to handle full sun?” Phelan asked. He only knew of one vampire who could stand the touch of bright sunlight and that was Darien.
“I can’t,” Elliot said as he stepped from the shade.
Krissy gasped as Elliot stepped in the light. She expected flames or smoke to come rolling off him, but nothing happened.
“Then why can you handle it now?” Phelan asked as he stepped out of the garage to stand next to Elliot.
Elliot squinted at the werewolf. The bright light hurt his eyes and stung his exposed skin, but it was nothing like what he was used to. “I don’t know.” Turning, he started towards his car, hoping Darien had a pair of sunglasses tucked away in the glovebox.
Under normal circumstances, being thrown from a window into the noonday sun would have meant the end for most vampires. He did have some age and power to him, so Elliot stood a fair chance of surviving that kind of exposure, but only if he was quick. He curled his hand into a fist and remembered the last time he’d been in weak sunlight. It hadn’t been that long ago, and the burns had taken several days to heal. The fact he’d survived full sun bothered him. He added it to the growing list of things that had changed recently. A nagging feeling told him it was a side effect of drinking Darien’s blood, but there was no way to be sure. He put the mystery out of his mind for now. As it was, he had to get them all back to Darien’s apartment as quickly as he could. What he’d discovered in Krissy’s future could destroy them all.
Pulling off the shades he’d found in the car, Elliot fiddled with them as he waited for the elevator to open. He stretched and curled his fingers, feeling what was left of the sunlight on his skin. It tingled, but didn’t hurt as it had once had. So much had changed in his life that he couldn’t explain, but he didn’t have the time right now to ponder it. He had bigger fish to fry.